One Step at a Time

“So, Madame President,” As Adama’s hands rested on her slender hips, he balanced her while she reached up, returning a book to one of the upper shelves, “how did you like it?”

“I found it…stimulating.” She leaned back against him, relishing the heat and solidity of his body. “Your insights were well received.”

“I thought you might appreciate the perspectives.” Reaching around her, he gave a gentle tug, releasing the knot on the tie of the robe she wore. His robe actually, although he loved the way it looked on her, the dark material framing her ivory skin. “From a different angle.”

“Hmm.” She closed her eyes as he slid the robe off her shoulders and tossed it on a nearby chair, one hand moving to run along her spine as she sighed happily. “Different angles are good.”

His lips curved…then he lifted an eyebrow as she turned, her hair brushing against his bare chest briefly before her lips nuzzled into his collarbone, her nails tracing their way to mimic his movements along his back…

Her voice held a note of teasing challenge. “Upping the ante…sir?”

At her last word, delivered on barely a breath of air in his ear, he chuckled. “Is that a challenge?”

Gracefully stepping back and turning to move toward his rack, she reached up and lazily ran a hand through her curls, one finger stopping to twist a long strand of the dark red strands around, the movement attracting his attention, as he watched, entranced as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Only if you take it as such.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Or you could take me.”

His lips curved upward at the blatant offer in her voice, the quiet confidence and raised eyebrow reminding him of when they’d finally decided to damn the voices and causes that deemed any relationship between them must remain on the professional level, despite the forces that drew them helplessly closer.

Ironically enough, it had been in a small, dimly lit tent that their physical relationship had flourished, with no more privacy than her previous quarters had afforded, but with all the intimacy that the two of them had been able to spin between them. Whether hidden away from the eyes that reported each of their moves back to Baltar, or flagrantly defying his edicts that the Galactica crew, and more specifically its Admiral, remain above, they’d slowly strengthened the foundation that linked them even while separated months later.

While they’d spent hours talking of the affairs of the fleet and then books, but rarely life in general during her first term as President, the time that they had on New Caprica was spent learning about the man and the woman behind the facades they’d had to build. Sharing words, touches, looks, hopes…he’d been amazed to find that Laura the woman was almost painfully shy as he got to know her, the brazen bold Presidential persona one that she’d drawn on with her suits, although the underlying strength ran through every part of her that he grew to know and love. And that this Laura, the teacher, was gentle, encouraging, loving…everything that the children craved and loved, giving her the fulfillment that their awestruck parents couldn’t, still seeing her as their former President. But Laura the lover…As he rounded the corner to his rack, he froze for a moment, watching as she knelt facing him, one hand tracing from the opposite shoulder to slide provocatively between her breasts and lower…

“Coming…yet?” Her wide green eyes were guileless, amused at his slack jawed expression. “Admiral?”

“It seems you have matters well in hand, Madame President.” Shaking himself out of his reverie, he strode forward, stopping just short of the rack as he locked eyes with her.

“Hmm.” Laura gracefully slid sideways, her legs unfolding as she reclined onto the mattress. “Somehow I remembered you as a more…active participant, good sir.” One arm was bent over her head, pale against the lamp lit auburn hair, the other continuing to move…”Admiral, sir.”

“Active is good.” Catching the hand that was sliding past her stomach, he laced his fingers with hers and guided it lower as her breath caught in surprise. “I thought we agreed to…handle things together.”

“Together…is…” Laura’s breath caught as their laced fingers parted her legs. “Hmmm…good.”

“I’m glad you approve,” after using his other hand to deftly unclasp and push his pants down, he eased down next to her, lying on his side as she let out another soft cry, her back arching slightly. “My, my, Madame President.”

“Shut the frak up and frak me,” she hissed, using their linked hands to tug at him.

“All in good time.” Refusing to accommodate her command, he raised up on his elbow to look down at her and chuckled softly. “A bit eager?” As her eyes narrowed at his question, he realized his tactical error. Seconds later, she was moving their linked hands once again, this time up to her lips, where closing her eyes, she slowly sucked first one of his fingers, then another into her mouth, her tongue delicately cleaning every inch of her taste off of his skin as he groaned, eyes fluttering shut at what her mouth was doing to his hand, and remembering what it was capable of doing to other appendages, before she abruptly shoved him over and onto his back

As she slid over his body, already sitting up and bracing herself on his shoulders, he opened his eyes, craving a glimpse of her delicate profile, and remembering his surprise when on New Caprica, he’d caught the glimpse of the passionate, ravenous Laura that had made him stop, stunned. As they’d grown closer during his visits to New Caprica, treasuring every moment of time they had together, he’d seen the woman beneath the practical, tough as nails, passionate President, beneath the gentle, loving, compassionate teacher…and then, the day after the Groundbreaking ceremony, when they’d been recovering from the after effects of alcohol and the herb she’d given him, he’d turned to look at her as she perched on a rock in the sunlight next to the stream where she wanted to build a cabin. And realized that with all the different facets he’d seen of Laura Roslin, he’d never seen one with the blatant look of predatory feline desire that was currently on her face.

When he’d simply raised an eyebrow in her direction, she’d responded by sliding off the rock and reaching out for him, yanking him toward her. When he’d finally gotten his breath back sometime later, he’d asked her what had changed. She’d slid over him in much the manner he’d quickly grown accustomed to and responded that she didn’t give a frak what people thought anymore, and that while the previous night, with it’s flirting and cuddling had been a perfectly lovely culmination of the courtship he’d been pursuing one step at a time, she’d wanted more. And decided to get it. And then proceeded to show him once again how much more she’d wanted. Several times. And if he remembered correctly, there had been a mutter or two about Kara Thrace and Sam Anders’ impetuous behavior as well.

“Admiral?” He blinked, returning from his memories as her tongue ran up the scar bisecting his chest. “While I can do what I want while your thoughts are elsewhere, not only is it rude, but I’d much rather you be a participant as well.” Her eyes met his, amused. “Unless, you’d rather I had my way with you. Again.”

“Goddess of my dreams.” As she smiled and dropped her head again, he groaned as her mouth lowered to nip at his.

Her delighted giggle resulted in an answering chuckle ending as her lips whispered against his. “I believe, sir,” her tongue traced his lower lip, “there was a challenge about dreams? And what are some that you may have had…” she nipped at his lip, “assuming you’ve had them?”

“I’m not sure if I’m having one or not right now.” Rolling quickly, he caught her off guard as she landed on her back with a giggle, staring up at him. “You see, I seem to have been dreaming something about having a dinner meeting with the President…”

“Hmm?” Her eyebrow raised as her fingers toyed with his dangling dog tags.

”My apologies.” Bending, he brushed a kiss across her lips. “A dinner meeting with the amazingly beautiful and brilliantly intelligent President…”

“Who was in turn admiring the warmth and comfort of the handsome, brave, and wise Admiral’s quarters,” Laura tugged at the tags and smiled under his lips as he nipped at hers again.

“Until, there was a slight accident with a water pitcher…” His hand slid around her neck, caressing gently, “resulting in both sets of clothing needing to be dried…who the frak scheduled a Quorum meeting for both of us at 0700 tomorrow morning anyway?”

“This morning.” Laura giggled, “and it was Tory. I think we’re being punished. Something about too many late night meetings over here and my not getting notes to her in a timely manner. Or something like that.”

”Anyway.” With a tug at her hair, he pulled her head back so her neck was exposed as he bent over it, nibbling.

“Well,” one leg gliding up to wrap around his waist, she shifted slightly, “if you’re dreaming, then I’m dreaming, but at least we’re dreaming together.”

Bill lifted his head and gazed at her in bemusement. “And that makes just as much sense as that idiotic comment you made about hypotheticals.”

“You want hypothetical or reality, Admiral?” Her lips curved in the smile he’d come to realize she only gave him, and only when no one else was around to witness, as her hand wandered lower.

“I want the dream. Our dream.” He growled then arched into her as she gasped, both of them falling and catching at each other’s hands until they shattered around each other, her uninhibited shriek cut off as he caught her mouth.

When he regained enough control of his body to move, Bill carefully rolled them over, easing her body along with his before using his foot to pull the covers up to his reach. When she murmured against his neck, he chuckled and traced his fingers along her back. “Shh…”

“That’s how this started…step at a time.” Laura wiggled slightly and settled against him with a sigh. “Like this. Together. Love you.”

“Love you.” Tucking the covers around them, he kissed the top of her head as she possessively threaded her fingers through the chain holding his dog tags with a contented hum, her soft sigh the last sound he heard before following her into sleep.